Stockings
by TheUnderstatement
Summary: Sonny and Chad possess one certain trait in common - they both have a DEFINITE thing for stockings. Perhaps Christmas will reveal this joint obsession in a rather surprising way.. Chad/Sonny one shot.


**Stockings.**

(From a random word prompt from my delicious friend **S3r3ndipity**, for whom this story is dedicated to with love.)

A/N Yes, this is Christmas/New Year's themed.. I wrote it a while back and decided to post it while I finish up my first Glee story (EEP!). A little racier than my previous writing.. I hope you enjoy, beautiful readers!

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><p>Sonny Monroe had a definite thing for stockings.<p>

Without a doubt, the sweetest thing about the whole of Christmas day was feeling the weight on your feet at God-knows what hour in the morning, and wiggling your toes to hear that satisfying crackle in the silent room. The adrenaline flooding through you, excitement pounding in your head.

Then, trying to get back to sleep, because you guess that everyone else is still asleep... And then hearing a similar crackle in the next room, and flying out of bed, arms in the air and a huge smile imprinted on your face.

Stockings were truly the best part of the whole festive season for her.

It brought back millions of memories too.

When she was little and her Dad would sit next to her, making sure she looked, smiled at and appreciated every present properly before eagerly tearing open the next. When her Mom attempted making the family stockings after a shaky month of sewing classes. When her Grandmother had her for one Christmas, and having been unable to fit all Sonny's gifts in the stocking, had instead used a pillowcase. When Lucy cried because Sonny's yellow stocking was prettier than her pink one. When Grady had one stocking for food, and the other for solid, non-edible presents, of which there were few. When Chad had-

Chad.

Those memories spent with him could not be thrown around with her cheerful reveries.

They were special. Sweet and precious. Taped to her mind. Oh, the nights he had spent with her this holiday.

When they had decorated the tree, and Chad bought thousands of candy canes to hang on every single branch they could find. When Chad had surprised her with a pair of tickets to Wisconsin, tucked into a huge bouquet of Christmas roses. When they'd hung the lights on Sonny's roof, and they'd lain on the frosty tiles, drinking in each others dewy appearance in the glowing moonlight. When it started to snow, and they'd danced and laughed and kissed till their lips started going blue. When he'd held her next to the glittering fire, and ran his long fingers through her hair with profound tenderness. The way he had made her smile non-stop for the whole holiday. It was perfect.

And then there was the, hem, _other_ things they'd, you could say, _experimented_. But they didn't need to be mentioned. Sonny was completely paranoid her Mother could read her thoughts, and so unwillingly kept those things off her mind. But the rest could sit there in her brain, willing her into dreamy, hazy, happy sleep every night, and waking her up bright, brisk and buoyant every morning. Those were the happiest memories she had ever known.

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><p>Chad Dylan Cooper had a definite thing for stockings.<p>

It was a strange ideal. He'd never had much of an obsession with them before. I mean, girls had showed them off to him, running their sleazy fingers up the reams and twiddling ridiculously with the hems of their barely-there skirts. He'd had no attraction to them. They were, to him, sexy but meaningless. A luring device used worldwide by his loosest and most desperate fans.

That was until he caught a certain girl slowly rolling them up her legs.

On her, it looked so innocent. So teasing. So slow and painfully alluring. The way she hooked her index finger into the rim and carefully ran it up her leg, covering her bare, olive skin with a layer of sheen nude material, shiny and yet subtle. As it reached her knee, Chad's breath caught in his throat. She had slightly hitched up her skirt to slowly roll her stocking up her thigh, and when Sonny bit her lip, Chad let out a breath he had been holding in for much too long, causing her to turn at the sound and duly fall off the back of the bed in surprise.

"Sonny, are you okay?"

She climbed hastily onto the bed again, her face flushed, and her expression one of total mortification. "Yeah, I am fine. Totally." She cleared her throat nervously. "So."

Chad chuckled, his hands clammy and his head still flooded with the images of Sonny gently running the stocking up her leg. "So."

Sonny smiled sheepishly, standing up and smoothing her dress down. "Has the party started, then?"

Chad suddenly remembered the reason why he had actually come up to Sonny's room – the party _had_ started. The Munroe's New Years Eve party. And instead of helping downstairs, handing out canapés and chatting with people who he didn't really want to, but had to to be polite, he was upstairs, gawking at the sight of Sonny's legs.

He really was a teenage guy.

"Um, yeah," He said, trying to keep casual, "It has. People are starting to arrive." Realising that his eyes with still on her legs, he blinked and raised his eye level.

She looked amazing. Chad felt ashamed that he'd been so caught up in his hormones that he hadn't noticed it.

"You look beautiful, by the way. Really beautiful." Wow. He was turning into a girl.

It seemed to work, though. Sonny giggled, and ran up to him, pulling down his lapels so that their foreheads were touching. "You look really handsome. I like you in a tux." She froze suddenly, and her eyebrows knitted together as if she were making a decision.

After a moment, she snapped out of her reverie, and looked up at Chad, her eyes filled with curiosity and total, utter longing.

Back up. Longing?

Chad froze just as Sonny had before, realizing what had happened.

Sonny wanted him.

And, as any gentleman would do, he was going to give her exactly that.

He felt her finger trail down the centre of his shirt, and the other hand gently removed Chad's jacket on one shoulder. He lightly ran his fingers through the strands of hair that were lying lightly on her back. He leaned in to capture her lips in a slow kiss, his fingers now drifting over the zipper on the back of her dress lazily.

This was awesome.

"So, Chad," Sonny sighed softly when they broke apart from their kiss. "I saw that you liked my stockings."

Chad moaned internally. She HAD noticed. "Well, um-"

"They're not quite right, actually," Sonny continued, "And I need to change them. I could wear tights, but-" She leaned in to whisper in his ear, "They aren't quite the same, are they Chad?"

Chad, by this point, was completely motionless. He was so shocked out of his wits he barely noticed the tightness of his jeans. Barely.

He shook his head in agreement to Sonny's previous point, and she grinned mischievously.

"Want to help me choose?"

The rest of that night could easily be left to the imagination. Let us say that Sonny did wear tights in the end, since ALL her stockings did not seem to be right, according to Chad, who had happily observed every single one rolled up and down her leg – Plus, she didn't want him to stare unflinchingly at her legs throughout the entire party.

For Chad, the _after_ party had been better.

He supposed that there had been other things about the holidays that he would keep as precious memories too. Like, when the clock tolled midnight, signally a new year, snow had started to fall softly from the sky outside, and Sonny had pulled him outside to watch the bright fireworks burst against the dark night while they kissed in the cold. Or, when they climbed up the glistening, snow-tainted tree Sonny had played in when she was a kid, and he'd watched her utter delight when she beat him to the top – the moment he realized he was in love with her. And when Sonny's cousins came over, and she'd balanced them on her knees and told them stories and showed them magic tricks, and Chad had smiled at the thought of Sonny doing that with _their_ kids one day. But those memories didn't need to be mentioned. He was paranoid that the paparazzi could read his mind, and he needed to keep his reputation badass as always – so he kept those beloved memories unwillingly behind firmly closed doors. But he could continue to think of those never ending legs and tendrils of dark hair spilling down his girlfriend's silky back at his free will. Those were some of the happiest memories he had ever known… And maybe a few of the softer, sweeter memories could soak into his mind now and then.

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><p>AN Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


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